


The Tower

by SilverWing15



Series: I'm Writing Fanfiction About Block Men God Help Me [10]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No beta we die like logstead, Raccooninnit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28274292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWing15/pseuds/SilverWing15
Summary: Tommy sorts through the chests, looking for the thickest blankets in the best condition.They’ll have to stand up to hard living for awhile. Until he can establish his own base.He folds three of them into his pack and stands, hand on the first rung of the ladder when he hears it.Above him, the door shuts with a groan and a thunk. Footsteps cross the floor, confident in their stride.Technoblade is home.AKA: The raccooninnit fic that I wrote out of pure self indulgence
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: I'm Writing Fanfiction About Block Men God Help Me [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057121
Comments: 57
Kudos: 1426
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	The Tower

**Author's Note:**

> just a note of warning: This will end on an abrupt note and I don't really have much interest in messing with this "plot" thing. If this ever gets a continuation (which it might tbh) it'll probably be awhile and it'll probably be more along the lines of snippets and such rather than like..resolving the massive cliffhanger I leave you on. Sorry fam. 
> 
> another warning: there is some gruesome pondering on the fate of Tommy's (supposedly) dead body by Dream before he realizes that Tommy is alive (whoops) 
> 
> I think that's basically it. I had some vague ideas and I slapped them all together in a vague sequence of events and now you have this, enjoy!

He sees the tower and dread swoops in his gut. _He wouldn’t. He didn’t. He couldn’t have._

A tower to the sky. A tower to nowhere. 

_He didn’t._

Dream charges into the crater that was Tommy’s ramshackle building--the thing was nearly collapsing in on itself anyway, really he did the kid a favor by blowing it up. He did. It wasn’t supposed to--Tommy _didn’t_. He scrambles over the rubble, searching for any sign of a body. 

But its been days, the body would be gone by now. Monsters, animals. Any source of food goes quick in the wilds. 

He doesn’t let himself imagine Tommy’s body--broken and bloodied but still looking innocent and young. Gods he was so young--getting dragged into the depths of the ocean by the Drowned. Or ripped apart by land-walker zombies. 

He doesn’t let himself imagine it because it didn’t happen. Tommy wouldn’t have. 

He wouldn’t. 

He clambers up the other side of the crater, to the base of the tower. There’s no sign of him. No blood, no drag marks on the stone. No sign of death. 

But no sign of life either. 

Dream leans against the tower-the godsdamned tower--as his knees suddenly go out from under him. He wasn’t supposed to--he was just trying to teach Tommy a lesson. Just trying to get him under control He was a loose canon, and those have to be tied down before they hurt people. 

Tommy was meant to realize that Dream wasn’t his enemy, was meant to realize that they could be friends, that they could get along. He was supposed to learn that Dream knew what was best, that he just needed to listen and Dream would help him, be there for him. 

He wasn’t supposed to do this. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

Dream takes off his mask, stares into the blank smiling eyes. He tosses it away, it skitters over the pitted ground and disappears from his sight with a soft splash. Dream sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. Now he’s going to have to get the damn thing before some drowned starts carrying it around. This is the last thing he wants to mess with right now. 

_You should be more careful with your things,_ his mind sneers at him, _you’d hate to lose another toy._

Dream shoves the thought away, Tommy wasn’t a _toy_ he was a person. He was a friend. He was just...having trouble figuring that out. 

_Some things just can’t be tamed._

_Some people would rather die than let someone help them._

There’s a fairly deep tidal pool near the base of the tower, his mask floats face up on the surface, moving with the push-pull of the waves. It must connect to the rest of the sea underground somewhere. 

That’s probably where the drowned came to shore. Where they took Tommy down with them. He might still be there, underwater. 

And its Dream’s fault. Its his fault. 

He didn’t keep a close enough eye on Tommy, wasn’t a good enough friend. He should have known better, should have done better. 

Dream fishes out his mask and turns to climb back out of the hole. 

And then stops. And stares. 

There is a bit of fabric stuck on a sharp jut of coral. Its a jagged edge, but an uneven one. Its only sharp on one side. Nothing could have gotten caught here if it was a drowned dragging Tommy’s body _into_ the pool. The only way for the fabric to get caught where it is... 

Is by someone climbing _out_. 

It could have been left days ago, but Dream’s never seen Tommy go into this pool. He climbs to level ground and looks around. There, in the sand, just above the tide line, half erased by the waves. The edge of a footprint, it can’t be more than a few days old. 

Here, a splash of blood, Tommy must have cut his foot on the sharp rocks. Dream follows the blood trail, barely daring to hope. It leads him to the base of a tree, something was dug up here, scratches from fingernails still marring the dirt. In the bottom of the hole, a chest stands empty. 

Tommy is still alive. 

And he left. 

_He left_. 

Dream’s eyes narrow and he straps the mask back around his face. Tommy shouldn’t be out there on his own, not if he was that close to--

Besides, he’s still in exile, he’s still learning his lesson. That Dream will be kind to him if he only listens, that Dream will help him, that Dream is his friend. 

What kind of friend would Dream be if he left Tommy out there on his own? 

*** 

He has no idea what he’s doing. Well no, he does. He’s escaping, he’s leaving that shit hole Dream left him in. He’s breaking out, he’s striking out on his own! Prison break! Haha! Take that Dream! 

_But Dream was his friend, but Dream will be so angry when he realizes that Tommy has left._

But Dream wasn’t his friend. He _isn’t_ Tommy’s friend. It doesn’t matter if he’s angry, he’s never going to see Tommy again. 

Not until its too late and Tommy takes him down. 

Yeah. _yeah_ . He’s going to fight Dream, because Dream is _scared_ of him. Because Dream doesn’t have _shit_ on Tommy now. He doesn’t have the disks, and Tommy will get rid of him before he can get them. 

What is he going to need? 

Tools, he needs tools. He has some stuff somebody abandoned near his camp who knows how long ago but none of it is in good condition. He needs to repair or replace it somehow. 

Weapons. 

He’ll need weapons. 

The thought makes his shoulders come up to his ears, he fiddles with the edge of the improvised sword he’d made for himself. Its nothing like what he used to have, nothing like what he used to be able to make, but its a sword all the same. A weapon. 

Dream doesn’t like him to have weapons. 

He swallows. 

It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Dream _took_ all of his weapons, and he made him destroy them. He wasn’t Tommy’s friend, he’s his enemy. 

But he was _there_ every day. He let Tommy play with the trident, there was nothing as freeing as flinging himself through the air, only the cool metal in his grip to anchor him. Dream had come and they’d had _fun_. It was fun, sometimes. 

Sometimes. 

Tommy trudges through the snow--when did it start snowing? How far has he gone?--and finds a copse of spruce trees. Here is as good a place to start as any. He can build a base here, he can build up his weapons here. 

He shivers as he swings his axe at the base of the tree, hoping desperately that the thing doesn’t break. He’s not dressed for this weather. Weeks of not eating, not sleeping, it wasn’t really a priority earlier, he wasn’t planning to live long enough for it to matter. Only now it does, now he’s standing in the middle of the forest, tree half down. His axe bites into the wood with a solid thunk and he pulls, wiggles, trying to pull it out. 

He nearly flings himself into the ground when it suddenly gives, the handle swishes through the air, but the head remains stuck in the tree. Tommy stumbles and falls, lightheaded and dizzy and staring at the axe head stuck in the tree. 

_Damn it, damn it, damn it._

He crawls through the snow and pries at the metal, but his fingers are stiff and frozen, and its bitten deep into the wood. He feels his tears boiling hot against his skin, then freezing on the air. 

He looks up at the sky, hoping for some sign, something to give him direction, hope. Has he come all the way out here for nothing? Did he jump in that water for nothing? Did he finally stand up for himself only to fall here, on his own? 

He should have stayed on that beach. 

No. No, he isn’t dying here or anywhere else. He’s Tommy, he’s the only one that Dream can’t control, he’s the only one Dream is afraid of. He’s going to be the one to take him down. 

Tommy climbs to his feet. He’ll get supplies some other way. Some other time, he looks to the horizon, there are dark clouds gathering there. A storm. He has to get out of here, has to find someplace to keep warm. 

His best bet will be a cave, its not like someone’s built a house out here. 

....right? 

No, that isn’t right, is it? Technoblade is out here. 

Tommy hesitates. Technoblade isn’t someone to disturb lightly. He’s unpredictable, powerful, both physically and magically, and he has absolutely no reason to tolerate Tommy. In fact he has _every_ reason to try and kill Tommy on sight. 

Going to him could be far more dangerous than just staying on the beach. 

Tommy has just decided that he wants to live, does he really want to go into the den of something just as dangerous as Dream? 

Does he really have a choice?

Technoblade is the only one who has supplies and shelter out here. If Tommy doesn’t get either one of those, and soon, it won’t matter that he’s left. It won’t matter that he decided to live. 

Technoblade is his only chance. 

Tommy just needs to find him. 

He gets to his feet again--just this last time, just until he finds Technoblade’s house, then he can find somewhere to hide, somewhere to rest. 

Every rule in the survival handbook would say to never travel in a blizzard, even if you _do_ know where you’re going, you’re likely to get hopelessly lost and die of exposure. But Tommy doesn’t really have much choice. 

Tommy staggers through the snow, and really he should have been lost in the snow and the storm. But some god, somewhere, must be looking out for him because he looks up and there it is. Techno’s house. The chimney isn’t smoking. 

He isn’t home. 

Tommy stumbles into a stiff run and yanks the door open, the house is empty and dark. There is...a lot of zombified villagers. All of them in what looks like some sort of med bay, potions are boiling away in the corner. One of Technoblade’s experiments then. 

Tommy bypasses the villagers, ignoring the way that the more--or less?--lucid ones groan and reach for them, gnashing their teeth as if they are already chewing on his flesh. Tommy might be worried that they’d break out if this was anyone other than Technoblade, he’s a good, solid craftsman. Talented in the arcane arts. 

And that’s exactly what Tommy needs. 

Its cold still, but at least he’s out of the snow. Tommy digs into a nearby chest and finds a candle, he lights it with the small flame under one of the potions and holds it aloft. The first chest he opens contains a wealth of items he’d never thought he’d see again. 

He quickly throws open the others. Potions, books that shimmer with magic in their pages, what he can only assume are potion ingredients. Blaze rods. Tommy grabs a handful of those, clutching them close, they’re so _warm_. He dumps some of the more useless items out of his ratty bag, he can’t carry all of it and these will be far more important to keep if he’s staying on the move. 

He ransacks the house, in all honesty, grabbing anything that looks like it could feasibly be useful. Handfuls upon handfuls of ender pearls--which does feel a little odd to be handling while a living enderman stares at him. _Armor_ , weapons, golden apples. 

If Technoblade realizes that he’s been here, if he finds him, he’ll definitely try to kill Tommy. The apples will buy him time. Enough to run out of weapon’s range. He’s always been faster than Techno in a straight race. 

He spots a ladder and climbs down it. There are more mobs down here, and a cow--seriously, what is Technoblade _working on?--_ but no supplies. Maybe in the root cellar. 

A little trap door, almost invisible against the floor, sits in the corner. He flips the door open and descends the ladder. its Emptier than he’d like, only what looks to be extra supplies. A few empty chests, some extra blankets.

Still useful at least. 

Tommy sorts through, looking for the thickest blankets in the best condition. They’ll have to stand up to hard living for awhile. Until he can establish his own base. He folds three of them into his pack and stands, hand on the first rung of the ladder when he hears it. 

Above him, the door shuts with a groan and a thunk. Footsteps cross the floor, confident in their stride. 

Technoblade is home. 

Tommy freezes like a mouse that’s caught sight of a hawk. No, like a rat that can hear a snake at the entrance of the hole. Because that’s what he is. That’s the situation he’s in. He holds his breath as if that will keep Technoblade from realizing that he’s here. 

From above him there is the sound of a heavy bag hitting the ground--faintly, very faintly--he can hear Techno’s voice. He was always talking to himself down in the canyon too, Tommy isn’t sure he knew he was doing it. 

He doesn’t sound angry, not yet. He hasn’t noticed anything amiss. Maybe Tommy can sneak out once he’s distracted. Surely he’ll have to sleep at some point. Tommy just has to wait, just wait and stay silent as the grave, or he’ll be going into one. 

*** 

Apparently, Technoblade doesn’t _sleep_. It has to have been days by now, Tommy is eating slowly through his stolen supplies but even rationing them he’s starting to run low. He doesn’t know what to do.

He has to leave soon, even if he doesn’t have the food. He’s got the other things, that’ll be enough if he can just get out of Technoblade’s house before he’s found. Gods please let him get out of here without Technoblade spotting him.

Tommy waits, huddled in the dark of Techno’s basement and hopes that Technoblade sleeps at some point before he starves to death. 

He counts out the seconds, the minutes, the hours. He used to do this in exile. First measuring out how long he’d been there, then how long it’d been since Dream came, eventually he’d just counted to have something to do besides contemplate his own death, 

Two hours go by and he hasn’t heard Technoblade walking around. Maybe he’d fallen asleep at his workbench? It wouldn’t be the first time, in Pogtopia he’d often worked through days and nights and then simply fallen asleep where he was working. Even in the middle of the field a few times. 

He might be asleep. 

He might just be reading or doing something that doesn’t require him to move. 

Tommy is down to the very end of his supplies though, its now or never. 

Carefully, he climbs the ladder, slowly shifting his weight from one rung to the next. He takes a deep breath as he reaches the trap door. It creaks softly as it opens and his heart freezes in his chest. He stays there, frozen for a solid minute, waiting for Techno to move upstairs. 

Nothing. 

He pushes the door the rest of the way open and sets it gently onto the ground as he climbs out and then closes it just as slowly and carefully as he’d opened it. 

His heart is racing, his breath wants to come in desperate gasps but Tommy makes himself breathe slowly and evenly. He can do this, he’s doing fine, everything is fine. The cow watches him with one dark eye and whuffs at him but thankfully it doesn’t make any more noise than that. 

The skeleton and pigman in their respective cages watch him as he goes by, but likewise make no sound to give him away. Good, good. This is already going great. He can just slip upstairs and be out the door without Techno knowing a thing. 

He climbs up to the next level, freezing every time the ladder creaks or scrapes against the stone. He pokes his head through the hole and quickly finds Techno slumped at his desk, fant snores muffled behind his arms. 

Tension floods out of Tommy’s muscles, Techno is hard to wake up when he finally crashes. He’ll be able to get out of here, he can throw a couple of ender pearls to get extra distance and then he’ll be too far away for Techno to catch up, even with his horse. Surely Techno won’t bother chasing him too far, right? 

Tommy pulls himself into the room, crouching by the ladder. The door is so close, but there is a chest just a little bit past it that he knows is where Techno stores his extra rations. He’s only got a little bit of food now, and Techno is sleeping so deeply. He can get just a little bit more, and then he’ll go. 

He slinks across the room and opens the chest just enough to get his hand in. The hinges move smoothly and silently, its like it was meant to be. He pulls out a loaf of bread, some vegetables, and a good handful of jerky. 

This will keep him going for long enough to get onto his own two feet, surely. He takes a deep breath and glances at Techno again, still sleeping peacefully. He’ll probably feel the cold when Tommy opens the door, so he’ll need to be quick on it. 

He adjusts his grip on the ender pearl and stands. 

A low groan. 

Tommy looks up and one of the infected villagers is staring at him. It opens its mouth, saliva stringing between its teeth and raises a hand. The chain shifts, rattles. 

He freezes, stupidly, desperately. 

The villager moans again and the shackles reach the end of their slack. 

_Clang._

Techno grumbles and stirs. 

_Fuck_. 

Tommy can only stand and stare at the rising mountain of Techno’s back.

“Clarence?” he asks drowsily. The villager moans and tugs at the cuffs even harder. “Hey,” Techno says, in a surprisingly gentle voice, “calm down, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” 

For a stupid, foolish moment, Tommy leans towards that voice, that kindness. He’s been alone for _so long_ and even when Dream wasn’t being cruel he wasn’t being _kind_. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Techno mutters and Tommy snaps out of his daze. He can’t just _stand here_ he has to move. _Now_. 

Techno is starting to turn, he needs to go. He needs to go. 

He needs to move. 

_Do you want to be a hero Tommy?_

Technoblade’s eyes meet his. 

_Then die like one_. 

Tommy runs. He nearly slips on the wooden floors, but just manages to keep his feet. Techno shouts behind him but Tommy can’t make out the words over the pounding of his heart. He rips the door open and flings himself through it into the snow. 

The cold is a shock at first after the warmth of Technoblade’s house. Tommy ignores it as he fumbles with the ender pearl, his hands are shaking. 

He drops it. 

It falls to the ground only a few feet in front of him. He’s disoriented by the pinch-pull of the teleportation. Its been so long since he had pearls, so long since he used them. He stumbles in the snow, fumbling for another, but he’s too late. 

Technoblade’s hand wraps around his wrist and he’s jerked up into the air. He’s nose to nose with Techno as he snarls, “what are you doing in my house?” 

Tommy pries at the hand on his wrist frantically, scratching at Techno’s skin with ragged nails. “Let go!” he snaps, his voice sounds pitiful even to his own ears. High with fear and hoarse with disuse. 

He wants Dream, Dream would help him, Dream would protect him. 

No, Dream wasn’t his friend. 

Techno shakes him enough to rattle his teeth. Which is probably fairly gentle for Technoblade, but Tommy isn’t counting on that continuing. “Tommy,” he says, his voice a low growl, “what are you doing _in my house_.” 

“None of your business!” 

“I really think it is!” 

“Let me down and I’ll tell you.” 

Techno raises an eyebrow but opens his fist and lets Tommy crash to the ground. Tommy’s legs make no effort to catch him, he folds into the snow, his clothes are already wet. He’s not going to get far like this. But he can at least get away from Techno. 

He rolls onto his hands and knees, eyes on the horizon, he just needs to get out of arm’s reach and then he can throw another pearl. He can still get away. He can still--

Techno shoves him over with a lazy nudge of his boot. “Really? You don’t think I didn’t see that coming?” He stands on the edge of Tommy’s cloak. “Wait is this _mine?_ Why are you stealing my stuff? Don’t you have enough junk?” 

Tommy fumbles with the clasp, he’ll trade the cloak for his life. Techno grabs his bag before he can even make it to his feet, hoisting him into the air. “ _Tommy_ ,” he snarls, he’s not just annoyed, now he’s really angry. “What. Are. You. Doing. In my base?” 

The straps of his bag pull up under his shoulders, its hard to breathe. He can’t breathe. He’s just staring into Techno’s furious eyes gasping for breath. 

Is this how heroes die? 

Maybe its how disgraced exiles die. 

Its so hard to breathe, only the bag isn’t pushing on his shoulders anymore. There’s solid ground beneath him, warm and dry. Not snow, wooden boards. He’s back in Techno’s house. 

_He’s back in Techno’s house_. 

He jumps to his feet and staggers into the wall. He has to get out, he has to get out. Techno will kill him, Dream will find him. 

A massive hand on his shoulder, he can’t even draw the breath to scream. 

He’s back on the floor, Technoblade looms before him. He must be kneeling to be this close to Tommy’s eye level but he’s just so _huge_. His hands are splayed out in front of him, open, empty, what is he doing to do? Strangle Tommy? Beat him? 

His heart is beating so hard, so fast. He clutches a hand to his chest as if that will keep it from breaking through his ribs. He turns his face to the wall, its stupid, childish, cowardly, but he can’t face Techno’s rage. He braces for the pain. 

Only it doesn’t come. He sits on Technoblade’s floor, and he breathes, and his heart beats, and Techno doesn’t touch him. 

Tommy turns away from the wall. Techno is sitting across the room, poking at something on the fire. “Hey,” he says when he realizes that Tommy is watching him. He sounds a bit awkward, unsure. 

Tommy feels the same way. 

“Why didn’t you kill me?” 

Techno’s eyes fly for his hairline, “well it seemed a bit unsporting to off you while you were having a panic attack on my floor.” 

“I _was not--_ ”

“What are you doing in my house, Tommy,” Technoblade asks _again_. He can never just let things go. 

“Well you’re the one who brought me in here!” 

“ _Before_ that.” 

Tommy looks away. 

“I was leaving anyway, what does it matter?” 

“You were leaving with _my stuff_ so I’m curious.” Technoblade says, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair. He looks relaxed but Tommy is sure that he could make it to the door first, and he’s got Tommy’s bag on the floor beside him. 

He’s lost everything. 

Again. 

He fights back the tears, forces himself to be angry instead. “Its my stuff now. Its in my bag.” 

“And now its my bag, and my stuff.” Techno shoves the bag further behind his chair, out of Tommy’s reach. “So what were you doing with _my_ stuff, in _my_ house?” 

“Can you not just let shit go?” Tommy demands, forcing himself up onto his feet. He still feels a bit shaky but he ignores it. 

“Not when you’re stealing it.” 

Tommy shouts with frustration, burying his head in his hands. “I’m leaving, isn’t that what you want? Alright? I’ll just go.” He takes a step towards the door. 

Techno gets to his feet. Its not a rushed motion, or an urgent one. It still freezes Tommy in his tracks. “What is going on, Tommy?” 

“Well I’m trying to leave--” 

“The last I heard you were exiled, but Dream was supposed to be keeping an eye on you or something.” 

“Watching me.” Tommy snarls, “he was just watching me.” 

Techno frowns, “yeah, but apparently he’s doing a shitty job of it.” 

A sudden fear latches onto his heart, “don’t send me back. Techno, Techno please, don’t tell him I’m here. Please.” 

Techno is staring at him like he just did something weird, something wrong. “I’m just gonna go.” 

He pulls the door open but Techno slams a hand on it from behind him, shutting it again. Tommy flinches. 

“Its the middle of the night,” Techno says, “you have no supplies, no cloak, and you look like you haven’t eaten in a week.” 

“What does it matter to you?” Tommy sneers, “shouldn’t you be happy about this? 

“Happy about what? That you were living in my floor like a raccoon? Or that Dream is...what? Starving you?” 

Tommy ducks under Techno’s arm and storms deeper into the room. “You tried to kill me! You destroyed L’manberg! Why does this matter to you. I’m trying to leave, just let it _go_.” 

He snatches the bag off the ground and hoists it up on one shoulder, he’s surprised that Techno left anything in it. Techno is leaning against the doors, arms crossed. “Wilbur destroyed L’manberg, after you guys betrayed me. I’m retired now, I don’t care about that anymore. What I care about is why you’re running from Dream.” 

“How do you--” 

“Its not a hard leap to make, Tommy.” 

Tommy growls and looks at the windows, they’re on the second floor, and it is night out. Its going to suck having to go out into that. 

“You could stay here,” Techno says, reluctantly. 

“What?” 

“You’re kind of shitty at this...living on your own thing.” Techno says, motioning up and down in Tommy’s direction. 

“Why do you _care?_ ” Tommy shouts, he flings his arms out. He doesn’t even care if he’s yelling at Technoblade, as long as it will get him to stop asking _questions_. 

“I’m trying to be better.” Technoblade says softly, “I’m tired of war, I’m tired of death. I’m retired, and I’m trying to be a better person. I don’t think a good person would let a kid wander out looking like you do.” 

“You’re insane.” 

“But I have good stuff, and a warm place to sleep, better than you at the moment.” 

Tommy growls, but he hesitates. He’s so tired. 

Beyond physically exhausted--which he is--he’s tired of being alone, tired of running, tired of being confused. Dream would tell him to leave, tell him that Techno was lying, was faking, that he would betray Tommy in the end. 

But Dream lies. 

“Fine. I’ll stay. For a little while.” 

*** 

The voices rarely agree on anything. 

They are not an army, they are a force of chaos. There is no discipline, there is no order. There is only the desire for violence. 

Usually, that is. 

There are still many that whisper for him to stab Tommy when his back is turned, to kick him out into the snow and let Dream do what he will. 

Others, however, seem to have taken a liking to the boy. 

Which is..weird. 

The voices like _Phil_ , and they liked Tommy and Wilbur when they were allies, but Techno didn’t know that they might remember that. Might miss the camaraderie of their little band of rebels as much as he did. 

Many voices call for Tommy’s blood, but as the days go by more and more of them begin to call for Dream’s. 

Techno sees the way that Tommy flinches, when Techno stands too close, but he still leans towards him. Techno knows the effects of loneliness. 

Techno also knows the effects of abuse, of manipulation. 

So he moves slowly, he talks calmly, he gently prods Tommy back towards making his own choices. He’s a loud kid, he’s annoying, he’s clingy and pushy in equal measure, he pushes Techno’s buttons just to see how far is _too_ far. The way he dances out of arm’s reach when Techno sighs with just a little bit too much aggravation makes it easy to keep a lid on his temper. 

So Technoblade tolerates his new shadow, tolerates the insults, the thievery, the provocation. Eventually Tommy will figure out that Techno isn’t going to hurt him, and then he’ll calm down. 

Hopefully. 

*** 

In the end, its easy to find him. Tommy isn’t good at surviving on his own. He was raised in the city, not out here alone. Dream knows exactly where he’ll go as soon as he finds Tommy’s trail. 

After all, he was the one who told Tommy that Technoblade was out here in the first place. 

He watches for a few days, he knows better than to rush into something by now. Especially when Technoblade is involved.

He is glad to see that Tommy is alive and doing well. He was worried that the boy wouldn’t make it out here, and worried that Technoblade would kick him out or kill him outright if the voices got too loud about it. But he’d bet on Techno’s soft heart and he’d come out on top. 

_The house always wins._

Its cute, almost, to watch Tommy trail after Technoblade like a lost duckling, but its equally infuriating. Tommy is supposed to put his faith in _Dream_ , he’s supposed to listen to _Dream_ , not Technoblade. 

Not the burnt out husk of what was once a respectable foe. 

_Retirement_ , what a joke. 

Technoblade isn’t there permanently though, many times Dream sees him slip off into the hills. He follows once, but all that is out there is a bunch of turtles. Tommy is what matters, not Technoblade. Techno can stay in retirement as long as he stays out of Dream’s way. 

So he decides to test the waters a bit. He sends a message, he’s in the area, he wants to stop in for a chat, and he stands in the shadow of the trees and watches the chaos unfold. 

Techno is hiding Tommy from him. 

_Interesting._

Maybe he isn’t quite as retired as he’d led others to believe. 

He gives it a good while for them to settle down and then he makes his appearance. Technoblade is calm and collected, but Tommy, dear, poor, Tommy. 

He is _terrible_ at hiding, and Technoblade isn’t good at hiding the evidence of his presence either. Dream pretends not to notice, pretends that he believes all the lies, and goes on to ‘continue his search’. 

He grinds his teeth when he sees Tommy actually _hug_ Technoblade. 

Tommy is _his_ , and even though he’s misbehaving now, and he will have to be punished, Dream will forgive him. Dream will forgive him and bring him back into the fold. 

*** 

Technoblade is gone and he’s alone again. Its only temporary, just a quick trip into the nether for more nether wart and then he’ll be back. But Tommy is banned from the Nether and he isn’t willing to risk Dream finding him there. 

He putters around the house, keeping out of the way of the slowly recovering zombie-victims. Most of them are fully back to life now, but they are still re-adjusting to it and they are best left alone by anyone but Technoblade. 

Not that there’s anyone around here _but_ Technoblade, but still. 

Tommy stands on the porch in the cold morning air and breathes. Its fine if he’s alone, its only for a little bit, Techno will be back soon. Techno will come back. He won’t leave, he lives here. 

He’s going to come back. 

He is. 

Motion at the edge of the treeline attracts his attention and Tommy perks up, hopeful. Only for it all to crash down as he recognizes the brilliant green, the porcelain white. 

Its not Technoblade, its Deam. 

He’s looking directly at Tommy. 

He’s found him. 

“Tommy,” his voice floats across the clearing, he holds out a hand. “I was so worried about you,” he croons. “You were just gone, I thought you’d been hurt.” 

Tommy shuffles a step backwards. The house is a terrible shelter, he will only corner himself, but he wants the thick wooden doors between him and Dream. 

Even though Dream is his friend, he was worried, Tommy left without telling him. Tommy is a bad friend. 

No. Dream wasn’t his friend, Dream was only there to _watch him_. 

“Don’t run.” Dream says suddenly, his voice stern. Tommy flinches, reaches for the door. “Tommy,” Dream sounds gentle again, hurt by Tommy’s fear, “I’m not going to hurt you. We’re friends, remember. I care about you.” 

“You--” Tommy’s voice cracks, threatening to break the way tears threaten to fall from his eyes, “you _did_ hurt me.” he makes himself say. “You took my things, and you hurt me when I wouldn’t just hand them over. You _weren’t_ my friend. You were only there to watch me.” 

Somehow, Dream has come to the bottom of the stairs, he pulls the mask off of his face and Tommy stares into his eyes. They’re green, but not the comforting green of spring leaves. A poisonous green. 

For a poisonous man. 

“Tommy,” Dream says, he sounds disappointed, Tommy’s shoulders curl in. The door is right there, he could go through it, slam it in Dream’s face and lock it behind him. “You’re confused,” Dream says, he reaches a hand out. Tommy watches it move through the air but he doesn't move, he can’t move. It presses against his cheek, “I’m your _only_ friend.” 

“You--” 

“You think Technoblade is your friend? He’s using you, Tommy.” 

“No.” Tommy steps away, out of reach. “He isn’t. You used me. You’re the one who made them exile me in the first place. You’re _not_ my friend Dream.” 

He takes another step back, but Dream’s hand is around his wrist, gripping tight enough to bruise. His gentle smile becomes a scowl, “I wanted to do this the easy way,” he says as Tommy tries to pull away. “I wanted to talk it out, but you just can’t listen to reason, can you Tommy? Nothing sinks into your head unless its _forced_ in there.” 

With one effortless jerk, Tommy is inches away from him, “I am your friend Tommy, you just need some help figuring that out.” 

And everything goes black. 

*** 

The door is standing open. 

The voices perk up, crowding together and each murmuring their own opinion. 

_Ambush, Tommy left it open._

The voices rarely agree on anything. 

Techno hesitates at the treeline, hand on the hilt of his sword. There are no footsteps disturbing the pristine snow outside of his house, but this feels off. Tommy wouldn’t leave the door open. 

_Its dangerous, its nothing, its a coincidence._

The voices rarely agree. 

He approaches the house cautiously, but there are no sounds from within. There is no signs of a fight when he goes deeper in. As he looks through every room, he realizes that there’s no sign of Tommy either. 

On the back of the door, there is a piece of paper. 

The only thing written on it is a smiling face. 

_Dream._

The voices rarely agree on anything, but _oh_ , when they do…

_They sing._

**_Blood. Blood. Blood._ **

Music to his ears. 

_Don't worry Theseus, I'm bringing you home._


End file.
